Yeah, that was okay. Erin came over and stood next to him in the open door. Beverly Hills green and sharp in the bright afternoon. She said, ‘I think you might be right. Meet me back here at six. Wear your suit.’

Alone in the corridor, he got a better impression of how stupid he’d been, saying that. It wasn’t quite so obvious until he was outside, looking at those little brass numbers.

He took an elevator to Beauden’s floor. There was a Do Not Disturb sign on his door handle. Vincent knocked and called his name. No answer. He cupped his ear to the panel. TV noise.

‘Beauden.’

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s me.’

‘I know.’

Vincent waited.

‘I’ll just stand out here, shall I?’

Faint footsteps, and then the door opened.

The first thing he noticed was the trio of empty beer bottles on the table. Another one half-full on the nightstand. Vincent wondered if that was yesterday’s consumption, or just today’s count.

Vincent followed him in and shut the door. Beauden flopped on the bed, watched the TV. It was playing an old movie on cable.

Vincent said, ‘Is this your Howard Hughes impersonation?’

‘Yeah. Come on in and be an asshole, why don’t you.’

‘Well.’

‘Well.’

Vincent took the chair by the bed. They stayed like that for a while, maybe a minute, watching the TV.

Beauden said, ‘That’s Reese Witherspoon. She must be like fourteen or something.’

‘Oh, yeah. It is too.’

‘There’s a young guy has his eye on her … you’ll see him in a minute. I think he’s going to take her swimming in the river, try out some moves.’

‘Right.’

Beauden reached across to the nightstand and found the half-full bottle without looking. ‘This guy here, that’s Reese’s old man. I think what’s gonna happen, there’s gonna be some romance between Reese and the boyfriend, and her old man’s going to go ape shit.’

‘Have you seen this before?’

‘No. It’s hooked me, though. I want to know what happens.’

Vincent gave it another couple of minutes, pretending to be engrossed in the film, but composing his next sentence. He wasn’t quite sure of the way into what he needed to say. In the end he just kept it simple and said, ‘Are you feeling all right at the moment?’

Beauden’s head turned on the pillow. ‘Huh?’

‘I said, Are you feeling all right at the moment?’

‘Oh Jesus Christ …’ He took a little sip.

‘Well.’

‘Not a crime to have a beer before five o’clock.’

‘I know. I’m just …’

‘What.’

‘I’m just checking everything’s a hundred per cent.’